Blood, Bone and Bond
by GDpup
Summary: An ancient magic brings together four champions to fight the dark lord. But the bond brings with it more than just the strength to fight.


The night sky was cloudless, and the stars gleamed with an odd brilliance, or at least the magical ceiling of the Great Hall shoed them to be, or it was possibly due to the fact that for the first time in months, since that night in the graveyard, Harry felt a genuine smile creep up to his face. The final first year had been sorted and the students around him were cheering madly and chanting for food. Harry returned his gaze from the night sky and focused on the head table where the teachers sat. Dumbledore rose quietly from his chair, and without the need for any more of a cue than that, the entire hall grew silent before the headmaster had even reached the podium.

"Before we begin tonight's delicious feast, there are, of course, a few announcements to be made. First I must sadly inform you, that our beloved Professor Hagrid will not be joining us this term. Harry, Ron and Hermione shot each other a quick glance. Where had Hagrid gone, and what was he doing? Harry was positive it was something to do with the Order, as their various attempts at eavesdropping over the summer had hinted as such.

"For the duration of the term all Care of Magical Creatures classes will be taught by Professor Charles Weasley." At that moment, a door at the side of the head table swung open and Charlie Weasley stepped out. Harry of course had met Charlie at the Quidditch world cup and then again during the first task last year, when he came with the dragons, they had become quick mates, especially since they were both seekers for Gryffindor.

"Professor Weasley only graduated from Hogwarts himself a short time ago, but has already done fine work in the study of dragons, and in his short career has already become a well acknowledged expert in Dragon handling and breeding. Along with his study of dragons, Professor Weasley has published a good number of studies of various other magical creatures, and is no doubt one of the best suited wizards to take up the post in Professor Hagrid's absence."

Harry's jaw was on the floor for the entirety of Dumbledore's introduction. It was until the overwhelming cheering from the Gryffindor table, which was appropriate given Charlie's legendary status within the house that Harry managed to pull himself together and spin around to face Ron. His best friend simply sat there with a smug grin on his face.

"I've been holding that secret in all summer just to get to see the look on your face." Ron finally laughed out.

"Ronald!" Hermione barked, slapping him in the back of his head, Harry too gave him a rather stiff punch in the arm, but Ron just kept on laughing, obviously Harry's gob smacked face was worth the physical abuse.

As the Gryffindor table settled down, and Charlie took his place at the head table, Dumbledore turned again and addressed his students.

" As for the defense against the dark arts position, the talented Miss Dolores Umbridge will be assuming the post." He took a slight breath as a few students clapped politely for the toad-like women in pink robes at the end of the table. Dumbledore was about to continue, when the squat women stood and cleared her throat. As she walked forward, apparently to make a speech, Harry's attention wandered back to Charlie. He was excited to get a chance to talk to him; he could give him some help with quidditch after a year off. Harry wondered if Charlie would be staying in the castle or out in Hagrid's hut. Then Charlie suddenly looked away from Umbridge, and caught Harry's eye as he was staring, but only smiled and rolled his eyes slightly. Harry stifled a laugh and turned back to the table where Hermione was listening to the new professors diatribe with an increasingly disgusted expression on her face. Ron on the other hand was massaging his rumbling stomach and staring at the empty platter on the table longingly.

Finally, Dolores umbridge finished her speech and stepped back to the table.

"Thank you, professor Umbridge, and now, without further delay, tuck in." The plates on the tables throughout the hall were suddenly stacked high with food. The best food of the year in Harry's opinion, much better than the end of term feast. For a few minutes nothing could be heard in the great hall except the clanging of silverware as the entire student body tore into the feast the way only a group of hungry teenagers could.

"So, have a good summer?" Dean Thomas asked to no one in particular. Everyone's eating had slowed down and the hall had begun to fill with chatter. Harry, Ron and Hermione spoke vaguely of enjoying the summer and being excited for school nonetheless, they couldn't tell them about the order or the ministry.

"I had a blast" someone said, The entire group of fifth years looked down the table and stared in sudden shock and realization that the well tanned and quite muscular boy in front of them was Neville Longbottom. Seamus was the first to speak.

"Neville, what happened to you?" That was the question on everyone's mind. Neville sat before them, a very changed man.

"Well, you know how I've been taking a shining in herbology?" He began, "Well I've been studying privately with professor Sprout and she's Muggleborn you know."

"Yes." Hermione said with a short nod. Harry gave an inquisitive look to which she responded: " She was the one who came to my house to talk to my parents and I about me being a witch and coming to Hogwarts. Who better than a Muggleborn teacher to know exactly how to approach the situation?"

"Right, well her family has a farm that her brother's run, and asked if I wanted to spend the summer working there. Professor Sprout told me that the best herbologists have to know not only about the properties of magical plants but non-magical ones as well. Gran was actually thrilled, with all the craziness happening at the end of last year, the chance for me to disappear into the muggle world was a dream come true."

Harry nodded as he accepted the explanation. A summer of hard labor and steady meals had done Neville good. His arms looked tan and his uniform seemed tight around his arms and chest, rather than his midsection as it had the year before. His face had lost all trace of baby fat; in fact there was even slight stubble along his now strongly defined jaw. Neville had grown up. Harry sat back and observed the rest of his friends. They were all growing up. This was the first time it had hit him, like photographs the memories of the first years they had been flashed in front of his eyes. Things were changing.

Sadly, as all good things must, the feast ended. The food slowly vanished and the candles dimmed slightly. Dumbledore rose once more to bid them good night and dismissed the students to their dormitories.

As Harry marched up to Gryffindor tower with the rest of his House, he felt, as he had felt on prior September 1sts, a sense of hope and excitement fill him, and as they climbed through the portrait hole and into the warm common room, he was once again filled with the sensation of being home.

From the Window in his office, Dumbledore peered up at the stars, tracing their patterns with tiny motions of his eyes and fingertips. It seemed that the stars were gleaming oddly. Bodies that should have been dull or indistinguishable shone with a mysterious brilliance, twisting old familiar constellations into strange shapes that were just as familiar, if not much more disconcerting to a wizard like Dumbledore who prayed they read well for his side of these things, and not the other. History was full of evidence that generations were just as often forged on the opposite sides of coins.

A cry from Fawkes gave Dumbledore enough warning to turn back to his office, and place a ward over everything around the tight circle that not a moment later was filled by a bolt of lightning in the center of the room. It grew more intense, and there was another cry from Fawkes and a rustling of wings, but the light had grown too bright for him to see where his phoenix had flown. Dumbledore could feel the brilliant energy pushing and prodding at his ward. Dumbledore pushed back harder, throwing more force into the barriers. There was a loud crack and a puff of smoke as the light vanished. In it's place, on the floor was a small scrap of parchment that was singed rather badly. With only a twitch of his eyebrow the scrap levitated and drifted to stop a few inches from Dumbledore's eyes and read

_Albus, _

_Those are some truly spiff wards you have, quite nice actually. Why, I naturally did all I could to force my way in like I used to, but you've seen to given me a run for my money. Good show. Now do be a good friend and let me in proper, you remember how I like my tea of course._

_, Yours forever in blood, bone and bond_

_Nick_

Albus Dumbledore rolled his eyes as he crumpled the note and waved his wand, adjusting the castle wards to allow his old friend in.

"Nick Flamel, it has been some time. Do forgive me for not recognizing your magical signature before I tightened the wards. These are dark times my friend.

"Of course." was all Nicholas Flamel managed to say before he tore across the room and snatched Dumbledore's right arm. "It's still there right? I haven't been able to feel it in so long. I think, I might have forgotten, or rather it forgot me." Albus nodded slowly and calmly as he stared into his friend's time worn face. Of course it was weak, they were all that was left. All that was left that was still a part of their bond. Albus pressed his wrist to Nicholas' and felt the sudden warmth blossom there and spread up his arm. Their bodies seemed to pulse slightly and their faces were relaxed and serene.

Nicholas stepped back after a moment. The pulsing stopped but the warmth remained. "Thank you, brother. Thank you Albus."

"I fear that there is more than the urge to feel the bond flare bringing you here." Dumbledore summoned two easy chairs, a small table and a tea set with cream sugar and a small vial of vanilla extract. "As you know, I am quite famous for my sweet-tooth and even I cannot stand the things you do to your tea."

"I missed you too Albus." Nick replied with a smirk. " I've come because of the stars, you know what they point to. What you might not know is that new brothers have been seen." Nick reached into the folds of his robes and produced a crystal sphere in which rested a prophecy. " I was given the prophecy in person by a gifted seer who also enjoys performing opera. I had front row seats, and she caught my eye in the middle of her aria and bam the vision hits. She was quite mad with me afterwards. I don't blame her either. Poor thing, it was her opening night. " He gave Albus one of his classic winks and continued, " But you're mentioned as well." He didn't need to say any more, and simply handed the orb to Dumbledore. Being a subject of the prophecy, he could view its contents without having to shatter it.

The crystal warmed in his hands and began to glow. A voice sounded in his ear, a voice that trembled on the edge of insanity. Sobbing, screaming, sometimes barely understandable through clenched teeth. Nick had made a joke of it, but this woman had suffered through every word of this divine script. Tellings of the future always took their toll, but this massive piece of destiny held the power to bring about the end of magic itself. Not even Sibyl Trelawney's prophecy concerning the dark lord had held so terrible a gravity.

_This is the night the four shall rise._

_The stars themselves sought them out:_

_The shield rises in one already sacrificed_

_The Sword, a man without fear to guide the way_

_The Lord, whom they serve, hidden for years from the fight _

_The last is the sage burning darkly apart. _

_Bound they will be when the stars deem it so. _

_Prepared by the sword of years long ago._

_They will destroy the vessel of darkness or darkness will consume the stars themselves._

Dumbledore looked up from the crystal and into the soft eyes of his friend. "Our time has come. Or rather, their time." His eyes glazed slightly as he allowed himself access to those memories deemed too precious even for a pensieve.

"The bond will awaken in them tonight but they must find each other and seal the bond themselves before we can step in." Flamel's voice rang out, pulling Albus from his reverie.

"Of course, it won't be long though, the stars didn't give us much warning. They're in a hurry. We won't have long to train them, and with the return of Tom Riddle, it seems things are coming to a head." Dumbledore spoke quickly, his mind jumping months ahead in planning.

"This is bigger than that. The Four are not ordained for just any war or struggle among wizards. This Voldemort nasty is only the surface if you ask my opinion."

Albus and Nicholas shared a sad glance. For the two of them who had lived so long, and seen so much, to witness this all too clear moment of the cyclical nature of man was almost heartbreaking.

"I had always hoped we'd be the last ones needed, that we would finally get it right. " Dumbledore whispered softly. After a moment more of grief, Albus Dumbledore smiled up at his friend and rose from the chair. "That's all the business that can be done for the matter at this hour. So why not a toast." He whipped a tray with two tumblers brandy out of thin air, and raised one.

"To Brothers."

"In Blood," Flamel cheered, raising his own glass.

"And Bone" Albus continued.

"And Bond." The said finally together, before clinking their glasses and downing the entire drink in one swallow. They spent the night Speaking of old times and planning for the very near future.

The snake coiled up piling it's massive body on top of itself, Growing past the size of absurdity into the realm of fear. Laughter echoed around the giant serpent like thunder. There curled up in a ball at the base of the snake's massive coils was Neville Longbottom. He was very aware he was in a nightmare, but couldn't wake himself up. He glanced up in time to see the monster draw its head back and open its jaws for a strike. Neville quickly looked back at the ground, expecting to feel the pain any second. But it never came. The laughter died suddenly, and Neville looked up to see a brilliant figure standing over him with a massive shield. The snake, now normal sized had struck the other side and lay crumpled on the ground. The figure with the shield stepped aside and another figure appeared, this one carried a glowing staff. The figure knelt down and gently pulled Neville to his feet. Finally a third figure appeared carrying a dazzling sword. He pointed the sword at the snake, which had uncrumpled itself and was once again growing in size, preparing for an attack. Neville cowered away, but the figures reached out, touching both his arms and the center of his back.

Neville felt their light seeping into him, and suddenly he wasn't afraid anymore. He felt the power growing within him. Instinctively he raised his right arm and a bolt of terrible white light ripped through the snake. It blared stronger and Neville's wrist began to burn from the intensity, but he couldn't lower his arm or stop the light.

Neville could feel his own fear rising up, this power was too much, he couldn't control it, and it would be the end of him. The light flared even brighter still, and Neville sat up in his bed with a cry.

By the time Neville realized that he was safe in his bed in Gryffindor tower, and that he had managed not to wet the bed this time, he had forgotten every detail of the dream, every detail except the white light. Neville felt as though he were still seeing spots from being blinded by it. He was hot, and sweaty. His pajamas clung to his skin. He quickly peeled them off and quietly padded through the room and into the shower.

Neville turned on the cold water and slipped under the stream. He gasped at the sudden chill, but quickly got used to the cold and then enjoyed it. He had often taken cold showers after a day out in the fields. He closed his eyes and let the water slide down his face. He didn't notice when the shower nozzle next to the one he was under started to spray. In fact it wasn't until he felt hot water splash onto his feet that he turned and looked.

Harry Potter was curled in a ball, shivering under the spray of steaming water.


End file.
